


Gifts

by AriaAkana



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eizen Talk, Friendship, One Shot, Small Mikmention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 22:21:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6584920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriaAkana/pseuds/AriaAkana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sorey and Edna talk over a cup of coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gifts

Mikleo is too busy with an extra shift at the museum to come along, so the visit to Edna’s apartment is a solo one for Sorey. He doesn’t mind it too much, since it means one less time for Mikleo and Edna to strike up another argument. Maybe “argument” was a bit much to describe it though. Whenever those two are together, it’s more like he falls into her trap and gets made fun of while being poked at with her umbrella. Of course, it’s all in good fun - that’s just how Edna shows she cares.

Sorey gives a few light knocks on the door, knowing that Edna hates loud noises. There are a few turns of the lock, and the door swings open.

“That’s weird,” Edna says in lieu of a greeting. Her light blonde hair is messily tied into its usual side ponytail, and her lounge wear is somewhat wrinkled. “Where’s Meebo? I hardly ever see you without your wife.”

“Someone didn’t show up for their shift, so he’s filling in.” He smiles as he’s let inside and finds his usual spot at the little kitchen table. Opened boxes and colorful, shiny paper are stacked on it, so he picks them up and sets them to the side on the floor. Edna gives him a grateful nod.

In general, he thinks Edna’s place is small whenever he visits. With its plain walls and sparse furnishings, he mistook it for Edna in the middle of moving in or moving out the first time he visited her. Could he help it? A tiny couch that could barely fit two people, a kitchen table with three chairs maximum, and a bookcase that was as tall as Edna. 

For the record, he has never set foot into her bedroom. Edna would have a field day if he tried, not that he ever would without her permission.

The only factor that keeps it from looking _completely_ empty is the overabundance of unopened gift boxes wrapped in pretty paper that comes in at random intervals and Edna is too lazy to deal with it. Like now - a red-colored package sits on the counter with white ribbons tied into a little bow. Similar and different-looking packages are stacked on the side.

"Didn’t your Gramps tell you it’s rude to stare at a lady’s personal belongings?”

Evidently, Sorey didn’t mean to, but he has terrible self-control sometimes.

“Sorry, it’s just that it’s been awhile since I came over.” He means it. He can’t lie to save his life, and all of his friends know it. “Are they - “

“Yes, they’re from Eizen.” Edna isn’t much for privacy when it comes to his gifts, so she brings some over and dumps them on the table (with noted care). Her hands are already undoing orange ribbons on a green box when she continues, “He sent a card, you know. Said they were from some shop in Pendrago when he was visiting. Get some coffee while I work on these.”

He’s glad for the distraction when he gets up and fishes out two mugs (there’s not much when it comes to plates and things, either). Thankfully, the coffee maker already has some freshly brewed, as if she knew he was coming, and the cups are filled up. The sound of ripping cuts through the silence.

They both have a bit of a sweet tooth, and Sorey makes sure to put in cream and six sugar packets for their drinks. He brings it over, finding neatly folded wrapping paper stashed in the opened box. In Edna’s hands is a green parasol that looks like it has leaves on it. The top has blue flower petals and the very tip has a darker blue flower on it. It’s very lovely, but she sets it aside without so much as a second glance. Sorey places the mugs on the table and they both take a sip.

“How’s Eizen doing?” he asks when she starts opening another gift. It’s smaller this time, a little bigger than the size of a box of fancy chocolates. “Did he send any letters?”

“Obviously. He sends them sometimes, with the gifts or without. Cards too.” Her fingers briefly stop and she looks at the wrapping. It’s nothing special, just white with faint gold patterns decorated on it. “He said he’s doing fine, he probably won’t be able to make it home for Christmas again this year. Some big project he has to work on in Rayfalke.”

Her fingers pick up where they left off, slowly tearing the wrapping paper.

“Are you sure? Maybe you should try asking - “

“Would you ask Mikleo to come visit if he had to do some big job in Ladylake?”

That shuts him up. Edna slightly hastens the opening, only folding the paper a few times and putting it to the side when she pulls out a little stuffed doll. Orange, with a cute hat and smile on its face. A nicely-sized plush of the mascot normin character she loves but would never admit aloud.

“He always had terrible taste in gifts,” she says, putting the normin on her lap. She takes another sip of the sugar-ladened drink. “Like this. Phoenix. He’s sent me a smaller one before, the clip-on thing for my umbrellas. You’d think he remember that and know I don’t need a bigger one.”

Her hand picks up the parasol and she slowly swings it in the air, drawing lazy and imaginary circles. “And this thing. He’s sent five before this one, but I only need _one._ And the first one he gave me is still good. Plus, the normin thing doesn’t even match up with all of them. He’s terrible when it comes to color coordination, I swear.”

She gives the normin a gentle squeeze on its arm, somehow making even that look affectionate. Her expression softens when she looks at it.

“It’s still pretty,” Sorey says, nodding to the parasol. Edna examines it as if it’s the first time she’s seen it. She brings it closer, stroking the petals. “And it’s decorated enough that you don’t need the normin on it.”

The parasol is on her lap, and the way it’s angled, it looks like the normin is holding it with its stubby arms. Despite the orange not matching up with the greens and blues, the contrast isn’t too bad. Sorey thinks it would probably look better if the normin was smaller.

“No, I’m adding it on, anyway. I’ll probably take it out a few times, just to make him feel better. And I can’t let it go to waste either,” she finally says. There’s the faintest hint of a smile on her face. “He has good taste in designs, at least.”


End file.
